


Homecoming

by KivaTaliana



Series: Ripples In Space And Time [4]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: AU series, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6427897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaTaliana/pseuds/KivaTaliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto pay a visit to Torchwood One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

Chapter One

Nicolas Blake was a proud man, with more than his fair share of ego. Nicolas to acquaintances, Nick to his mates and his wife of three months got away with calling him Nicky, Nicky Baby on occasion, but she knew to never call him that in public. He still felt very aware of how fragile his ego could be over a month after he had gone with the team to Cardiff. 

The events had conspired around him. He lamented that, and for once was right to do so. Nick was just doing his job, he had been told to go, and he had done as he was told. Those were the facts. 

However, facts and gossip never really met each other. They didn’t meet socially and rarely had a passing acquaintance. 

Ergo, the incident in Cardiff had meant that team had been made a laughing stock and Nick felt that keenly. He didn’t know how the others felt, they hadn’t talked about it. They had been thrown out of Cardiff by Captain Jack Harkness, the most infamous man in Torchwood. 

Blake’s wife, the ever understanding Chantal, didn’t know why he was so upset. He could never tell her, she didn’t work for Torchwood, so his only reply when she asked if he was upset was ‘work’. But that didn’t help, because she was the only one he could take his frustration out on and he could only do that in the most petty of ways. 

Criticizing. The house, the washing, the food she prepared; he picked at it. If she was late home from work he moaned at her. At the moment she took it with a baffled air of hurt, because she didn’t understand it. That was the life of a Torchwood wife, Nick thought to himself. 

He would make it up to her. It was Thursday now, his shift ended tomorrow with three days off. He would take her out, things she liked doing. A picnic, going to see some dopey female film, she could choose. He was full of good intentions. 

That paved the road to Hell. 

On that Thursday morning he was on duty at the door. And on that Thursday morning one person walked through the door and shattered all his good intentions. Someone followed behind them looking nervous, talking swiftly and seriously to the person in question. Said person turned and shrugged, lifted his left wrist and all the security in the foyer shut down. The doors to the inner foyer opened and the infa-red beams turned off, which could only usually be shut off with a swipe card - if you were important enough. Or if lesser employees had waved their ID cards at security. 

Nicolas Blake did nothing. He just glared. Two other guards moved to stop the stranger and three words stopped them dead. Nicolas activated his communications device. 

“Sir?” he snapped. 

“Yes Blake. This had better be good.” Was the curt response from his CO. 

“You’d better warn Ms Hartman. Captain Jack Fucking Harkness has just entered the building.” 

His day got no better when Jack turned his head and winked at him. 

 

 

Chapter Two 

“Are you sure about this Jack?” Ianto asked as they walked to the lifts. 

“Yes,” Jack said. 

“Perhaps I should have just come on my own. I mean what’s she going to do, lock me up?” 

As Jack sent him a sidelong glance Ianto’s eyes widened. He hadn’t returned to London for a month. He didn’t know quite how it happened. There had been the incident in the hospital and then Jack had rescued him before he could be carted off and somehow he had got settled in Cardiff. 

Jack had not wanted him to go back to the hotel, so Ianto was now set up in a very nice town house in a nice area of Cardiff. Jack had been a little dismissive about the ownership of the house. It was just something Torchwood had acquired years ago and hadn’t been used for a few years. Jack had spoken with a slightly airy tone and Ianto hadn’t questioned further. It was an unspoken understanding between them. Ianto had read Jack’s file, everything was in it. Including a copy of the deed to the house in question, which wasn’t owned by Torchwood, it was owned, personally by Captain Jack Harkness. And had been in his ownership for well over a century. 

The house had been well maintained but was a little dirty inside. Jack hadn’t been in it for about a decade. Ianto had spent a little time cleaning up, bought a kettle and spent his days working in the hub carrying on with what he had been assigned to do, and also tidying up, re-stocking cupboards and anything else that came up. 

Life had settled into a routine, which was probably what he needed at the moment, even if said routine was a little oddly structured. In the mean time Torchwood and the police had wrangled about what to do about Lisa’s case. 

Or rather, the police wrangled with Jack; Jack wrangled with Torchwood 1 and back again. And so the game went on. Lisa still lay in the hospital morgue and Ianto’s guilt increased every day. The situation had to be dealt with. So when rumblings came from London about Ianto’s extended stay in Cardiff, Jack had insisted on going with him. 

Early that morning they had set off in the SUV and arrived a little after ten thirty, and Jack had let himself in. 

Ianto cringed slightly as Jack now gave him that steady look. The one that said that Jack didn’t trust Yvonne Hartman an inch, and certainly not with Ianto. 

As they reached the lift Jack pressed the button. 

“Can you get on to the top floor?” Ianto asked. 

“Yep.” 

Ianto frowned, “I don’t have clearance to go up there.” 

“No you don’t,” a voice snarled. Jack and Ianto turned to look at Nicolas Blake. Whether the move was unconscious or not Ianto appreciated it as Jack moved to stand slightly in front of him, so Blake had to deal with him, rather than Ianto. 

“Well, I presume Ms Hartman wants to see her Liaison Officer,” Jack said pleasantly. “And I’ll like to see Ms Hartman as well and I’m sure she’d love to see me.” 

“I’m to escort you to Conference Room Ten,” Blake scowled at Jack ready for an argument, or a fight. However, he ended up rather disappointed. Jack just smiled, stepped aside, still flanking Ianto, so he also stepped back behind Jack. The lift doors slid back and pinged happily. 

“Lead on then,” Jack said. Blake scowled. 

He was still scowling as they reached the seventeenth floor and the conference room in question. Along the way Jack kept up a continuous stream of chatter about the last time he was at Torchwood London. They hadn’t even reached the spatial disturbance at that time, Jack waffled to Ianto, and to Blake on occasion. He asked the solider the odd question about his career at Torchwood. Not that he got a great deal of response. 

“I should get some of you guys. Tall, dark, great arse - you must work out - and don’t say a word. Could be my ideal man,” Jack added brightly to Ianto. Despite himself, Ianto smirked. He was not in a situation he wanted to be, in a place he was now slightly frightened of, mourning someone he couldn’t lay to rest. Jack however, had a habit of making him feel that all of that could be, in time, dealt with and healed. 

Blake didn’t appreciate Jack’s talents in the slightest. He opened the door, they went in, Blake shut the door and stood outside. Jack pulled a face at Ianto. 

“Are you all right?” 

For the want of something to do Ianto went to the coffee table and started to make himself and Jack a coffee. Jack said nothing further; he sat back against the long conference table and folded his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah, I just… I just wish… none of this had ever happened. I should never have taken the bloody promotion, if I hadn’t none of us would be in this mess.” 

“There’s no point thinking like that,” Jack said. Ianto turned and looked at him. 

“You used to travel with someone who could do that kind of thing though, go back in time and…” 

Jack sighed. “It’s not always as simple as that. Once you are part of a chain of events you can’t go back and start fiddling all over again, the universe wouldn’t let you. There was one time, a friend told me….” 

That was as far as Jack got. The door opened and Yvonne Hartman walked in with Tim in tow. Jack turned his head and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t move, he watched them from over his shoulder. Ianto got two more cups out and reached for the coffee jar again. 

“Jack Harkness,” Yvonne said. Jack straightened up and turned around. 

“Yvonne Hartman, I presume.” His gaze moved slightly to his left, to look at Tim. Jack smirked, Tim’s face started to turn slightly pink. “Hi Tim, been rather a long time.” 

“Yes,” Tim said. 

Ianto watched. Despite the slight heat of familiarity between them there was a trace of coldness in Jack’s eye. Ianto knew Tim had been one of the Project 345 runners, his reports were in the folder. Some pertaining to an interest Jack had shown in a young girl living in South London. The report had been added to at a later date and indications were that she was now one of The Doctor’s associates. 

If Jack knew the content of the file Ianto guessed that he wouldn’t take that break of confidence too well. Tim was the first to look away, Jack’s gaze stayed on him for a little longer. Then he shifted back to Yvonne. 

“I’d say it was nice to meet you, but I think we’re a little past that stage.” 

Yvonne looked startled. Ianto bought the coffees to the table. Jack took his, hooked his foot around the leg of the nearest chair and pulled it out. The others took the hint, Ianto sat next to Jack. Tim and Yvonne took two chairs opposite. For a moment drinking their coffees gave them something to do. 

“I presume this is not a social call.” 

“No,” Jack replied flatly. “What the hell is going on?” 

Yvonne glanced at Ianto and then back to Jack. With that one short glance it was made perfectly clear that Ianto was entirely unnecessary to this discussion, since Jack was here himself. For a moment that hint held. Jack looked at her, daring her to try and get rid of Ianto. 

“The only reason I came is the simple fact I don’t trust you,” Jack said. “Now you can either help me here, and however badly you go about trying to get it, it’s clear you need my help, or we can go back to Cardiff and leave you to try and muddle through on your own.” 

“May I remind you that Ianto works for us, here,” Yvonne said, mirroring Jack’s flat tone. “Therefore he has no reason to return to Cardiff.” 

“That I believe is entirely up to Ianto himself. He’s quite welcome to stay in Cardiff, plus, to me, it makes more sense for my Liaison to stay there, not London.” 

“He is in fact, MY Liaison Officer and again I’ll remind you he works for me.” 

“And I don’t think the decision should come from either of us,” Jack reiterated that point. 

Ianto started at all three people turned to look at him. He stared at them blankly for a moment. 

“I’m not sure…” Ianto started falteringly. 

“Then just leave it for now,” Jack said gently. He looked back at Yvonne. “What we need to do now, is I need to have a look at the spatial disturbance, or rather the lack of it. I need clear readings.” 

“We’re not getting any,” Tim said hostilely. 

“I want to see if for myself. And we also need to make a decision regarding Lisa Hallet.” 

“It should be a Torchwood investigation,” Yvonne said. Ianto looked at his coffee cup, staring at the dark liquid, watching it tremble slightly as his hand shook, curled around the delicate china cup.

“The police can handle it. As far as we can tell it’s nothing more than a normal assault, if there is such a thing. According to the Cardiff police there have been two similar incidents, its part of an ongoing investigation.” 

“And what has been found out?” 

“Random attacks, all three with a knife, nothing was taken but the police think that the killer might have been disturbed.” 

“On all three occasions,” Tim asked. Jack winced. 

The police hadn’t got far with the investigation. Neither had Torchwood, one of the murders had been one of Suzie’s tests of the glove. It hadn’t worked too well, the guy had wasted one minute fifteen seconds screaming for an ambulance. Not conducive to finding his killer. 

“Perhaps not,” Jack conceded now. 

Ianto brought up a hand to wipe away the tear that had trickled out of his eye. Jack had warned him they would have to talk about this and Ianto already knew the facts, except about the glove experiment. Although he had been careful about it Jack had informed him every step of the way, while he fought the police on one side and Torchwood on the other. 

“So we’re looking at something else. There is no reason to think this has anything to do with the sudden increase in employee deaths… in fact…” Jack stopped as Ianto pushed the coffee cup away and put his head in his hands. He reached out and gently touched Ianto’s shoulder. 

“We can’t leave it like this Yvonne. Lisa’s parents have been informed, police procedure. They can stall for a while but they will want to release the body soon.” 

“Have they autopsied the body yet?” 

Jack sent a careful look in Ianto’s direction, he hadn’t moved. “No,” he told Yvonne. “We’re still stuck.” 

“Nor can we risk moving on that in case our theory proves to be right.” 

“A lot of which is dependant on my assessment of what is going on here. Now… shall we deal with that first?”

Yvonne looked at Ianto, not unsympathetically, which endeared her a little to Jack, but not a great deal. 

“Fine, shall we go up then?” 

 

 

Chapter Three

Jack put a hand against the smooth white wall. It didn’t really give him anything, not via tactile contact. The only thing he did notice was that the wall felt a little warm, but that could have been the sun streaming through the windows, lighting the room up. 

“So what happened, you just tried to open it and bam…!” he turned to Yvonne. She stood behind him; arms folded across her chest, her blonde hair glittered in the sun resting neatly on the shoulders of her burgundy suit. She looked good, Jack gave her that, she looked the part. 

“You’ve read the report.” 

“Reports can tell you nothing.” Jack said. He flipped open his wrist-strap and frowned as he took in the readings. Stepping back slightly he looked again, moving six paces to the left and then back to the right as he tried to follow what he was looking for. Then he turned and walked across the room, past the levers, the computers where two people sat at their desks. He scattered the group of people stood in the centre, Yvonne, Tim, Ianto and Blake part of that. 

He walked through the open doors of the office and went to the window to look out at the view of Canary Wharf, then he spun back round and walked back to the wall. Again he put his right hand against it then stepping forward pressed his entire body against it. His cheek felt the smooth wall, it was still warm, and then cold, then it warmed again. He wasn’t imagining it. 

Again he stepped back and looked at it. He had read the reports, fed the data into the computer, compared it to the rift, done a million and one other things, or rather Tosh had and had come up with nothing. And now he had the same thing, nothing. 

“So?” Tim asked. Jack spun round and leant against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Nothing.” 

“That’s it?” Yvonne demanded. Jack raised his eyebrows and shrugged. 

“Yep, nothing. As far as I can tell, this wall doesn’t exist.” 

“But it does exist, it’s there. If it wasn’t you’d be flat on your back,” Ianto said. Jack grinned. 

“Exactly, so what does that tell you?” 

“That a wall that isn’t there is there. So we have exactly nothing.” Yvonne looked ready to stamp her foot and throw a tantrum. It was clear she was trained better than that. Instead she glared at Jack. 

“Exactly,” Jack said. “What were you doing when it imploded?” 

Yvonne frowned, “how do you know it’s imploded?” 

“Nothing blew up, ergo; it’s gone in, the definition of imploded. What were you doing?” 

“Running initial tests.” 

“On what?” Jack asked. Yvonne sighed. 

“All the data was in the initial report we sent,” Tim said. “The plan was to feed the spatial disturbance with a particle charge and that, according to the readings, should have created energy. Energy we were planning to use.” 

“And instead?” 

“Instead it closed.” 

Jack pushed himself away from the wall, walked back a little bit and sat on the nearest desk. Apart from the computer it was empty. No papers sat in the in-tray, the machine was off. Jack guessed this desk belonged to one of the dead employees, but he’d get to that part eventually. 

“Show me.” 

“It’s won’t work.” 

Jack turned and looked at them all patiently. “Just set the equipment going.” He turned to his still open wrist strap. Yvonne gave a curt nod and everyone around them suddenly started to move. The two operators started to boot up the computers and two technicians moved to the levers. 

“Are you sure about this?” Ianto said moving close to Jack. Tim followed them holding out two pairs of dark glasses. 

“The glare is a little bright.” 

“Thanks,” Jack said. Then ignored him, instead addressing Ianto. “I have no idea but this way I get a good look at what they are doing and Tosh will have a monitor of the rift activity. Let’s see if they are working in conjunction. Have you been onto Malcolm in Glasgow?” 

“No why?” Yvonne said. 

“Call him afterwards.” Jack slipped on his glasses as the particle gun powered up. “See if he gets anything for this timeframe.” 

“Is he likely to?” Ianto asked in a low tone. The sound of the machines hid their conversation for a minute. Ianto watched the bright glare and the sound of the machine started to chug violently. Jack grimaced, listening for a moment and watching his wrist-strap carefully. Then he jumped off the desk and moved to look over the shoulder of one of the operators. 

“Turn it off,” he commanded. Everyone obeyed and the machine powered down. The chugging moved to a low whir and then died away. The bright glare faded and Jack pulled off the glasses. 

“And what did that tell you?” Yvonne asked. 

Jack looked up at her and grinned brightly. “Nothing.” 

 

 

Chapter Four

“I’m sorry I haven’t called or anything,” Ianto said. Next to him Sophie said nothing for a moment; instead she just reached out to take his hand. 

“It’s all right; I mean… it was a shock, for you.” 

“I know but I should have phoned you to tell you, how did you…?” Ianto looked up at her, the wide dark eyes in the pale face, neatly surrounded by long blonde hair. 

“Lisa’s mum… she phoned me and told me. She sounded really upset.” 

“I spoke to her as well.” Ianto paused and swallowed heavily. That had not been an easy conversation for him. “I half expected her to have a go at me.” 

Sophie’s hand tightened on his, “what for?” 

“It was my fault she went to Cardiff, if I hadn’t… I should never have let her come and visit.” 

Sophie said nothing for a moment. “She can’t blame you for that; you can’t spend your life stopping people from doing things because of that. Ianto it’s not your fault, no one blames you.” 

“I do. If only she hadn’t heard Jack when he called. I could have just never told her. It was only because…” 

“Ianto,” Sophie said sniffing slightly. With her other hand she blew her nose with a tissue.

“Sorry,” Ianto said. 

“You can’t blame yourself, that won’t help. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. What have the police said?”

“They’re just… making enquires,” Ianto said. “There isn’t much to go on, no CCTV, no witnesses, and they haven’t found any DNA so…” 

Sophie took a breath, tightening her hand further on Ianto’s. “Don’t Torchwood normally do that sort of thing?” 

* * * * * 

“We can’t allow it Jack. It’s policy.” 

“That's very convenient, are you seriously telling me that all the other employees are on ice down in the morgue?” 

Yvonne looked back at him with wide open eyes, her expression calm. Jack blinked in shock. They had employees in the vaults down at Torchwood 3 but not to that extent. A Torchwood death was one thing, just an accident was another, surely? He asked himself that and then realised it wasn’t something he had faced. But he had done it, he had done it himself. All the employees that Alex had killed and Alex himself were in the vaults. Simply because Jack hadn’t known what else to do. 

“Of course,” Tim eventually said. “And we have looked into all the deaths. None of them were particularly suspicious except the fact that none of them were that suspicious.” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed, he didn’t like his own cryptic speak turned back towards him. Tim knew it as well. Jack was losing ground in this fight. The sad fact was he didn’t know what he was doing. This was a game he couldn’t play, let alone win. A rogue could not play the system, not only did he know it but the two people with him knew it. If he had Ianto with him he would have been in with a chance, but he didn’t. By unspoken agreement Ianto was excluded from this discussion. 

“So what does that mean?” Jack demanded. 

“Nothing,” Yvonne said. She leant forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Jack, this needs to be looked into. There is nothing we can do now about the police investigation. Certain things there need to be dealt with and closed down. I believe they are looking into a violent ex-boyfriend. That could be a possible scapegoat to end the investigation. We’re trying to locate him and bring him in.” 

“You can’t just set him up for her murder!” Jack said. Yvonne looked at him, her eyes cold. 

“We’re protecting an employee here. If you had allowed us to deal with the situation, none of this would be happening.” 

“No, Lisa would be down on ice with the rest of them and Ianto contained in the psychiatric department drugged up with God knows what!” Jack snapped, losing another foot or so of ground. One thing he could still do was protect Ianto, but that was getting harder and harder. He was going to have to give something and Ianto might never forgive him for that. 

Jack sighed. He knew there had been a very good reason for him severing links with Torchwood. He couldn’t fight such a powerful system from inside. That was something he was going to have to learn. The only advantage was that they needed him, as much as he now needed them. 

“Okay, so what is your plan for handling this?” 

* * * * * 

“I don’t want them to Soph,” Ianto said. “I don’t trust Torchwood.” 

“But…” she started to talk and then stopped. What the hell could she say? “Will there be a funeral? It’s been a month.” 

“I know,” Ianto said. 

“Will you stay in Cardiff?” Sophie asked. Ianto turned to look at her. 

“What?” 

“I just wondered.” 

Ianto looked away, staring at the untouched coffee on the table. It had gone cold, a slight skin forming over the top. 

“I mean, will you keep the job.” 

“God!” Ianto shouted he got up, yanking his hand from Sophie’s. She watched him start to pace up and down the room like a caged tiger. The frustration came off him in waves. “I wish I’d never got the bloody job! I’m no good at it anyway!” 

He stormed to the window and slammed his forearms against the glass. It rattled in the pane but naturally held. All the glass was reinforced. He put his forehead against it, feeling the warmth from the sun on his face. 

“I haven’t thought about it,” Ianto said dully. “What’s the point now?” 

Sophie stood up, smoothing down her skirt. It reached down to mid-thigh, showing off her long legs, another of her features she was proud of. 

“There’s a great deal of point Ianto. You can’t just stop…” 

Ianto turned to glare at her, “why not? Why can’t I?” 

For some reason his mind flitted to Jack’s house. Ignored by him, it was of no interest to Jack now. But it had been once upon a time. And for some reason Ianto thought of the kettle he had bought, and one mug, because that was all he needed. 

“Because you can’t, if everyone did that when we lost someone we wouldn’t get anywhere.” 

Sophie could speak with utter knowledge, both her parents died in a car crash when she was eleven. 

“I’ll tell you something, because I dare say Lisa didn’t. She was really proud of you, because of that job, not because of all the attention she got. You know she didn’t like that. And she was really pleased about going to Cardiff, she even bought a guide book from somewhere, she spent the whole bloody week reading it!” 

“Do you think this is helping?” Ianto said, his voice choked with tears again. Sophie didn’t get to answer. The door opened, she turned and so did Ianto. Jack stood in the doorway, looking very serious. Ianto tensed. 

“Jack?” 

“We need to talk.” 

* * * * * 

“Why Ianto?” Jack asked. He was sat at the table, feet up, trying to feign a relaxed attitude. 

“I’m sorry?” Yvonne asked. She frowned, the smile fading from her face. She had felt quite smug, having almost won this round. Jack had to concede, but he didn’t want her to think she had won the whole war. All he needed to do was learn the rules. 

“Ianto, as Liaison Officer. I mean I was a little surprised, bumped up from Junior Researcher to that. What made him stand out from the other candidates? I presume there were other candidates.” 

“Several,” Yvonne said. She looked confused, Jack slouched back even further and he flipped open his wrist strap under the table. Jack looked at her now and shrugged, raising his eyebrows. 

“So… what qualified him? I mean I read his personnel file, the one you sent me anyway. It was impressive enough, despite his school results, his IQ is way above average.” 

Jack watched, the air around him suddenly started to hum, resonating a little. The other two people in the room didn’t seem to notice it. Jack’s eyes moved from one to the other. They had both gone still, Tim looking down at the report in front of him in embarrassment. He had guessed what Jack knew, Ianto’s real job. 

Yvonne however, didn’t seem to get that hint. As much as she kept professing to be a people person she knew less than Jack did. He found some of the things that humans did rather unfathomable, she didn’t even seem to bother with wanting to understand. 

“It seemed a logic choice, simply because he doesn’t know the rules too well. Dealing with you requires some flexibility; a lot of the senior staff wouldn’t have that.” 

That actually sounded, as Yvonne spoke, entirely logical. Jack raised his eyebrows and shrugged. 

“That sounds fair enough.” Jack tried to ignore the humming, he glanced as his wrist strap but his eyes flicked back up as Yvonne spoke again. 

“Just so long as you know when to break the rules, Jack. You know that better than we do.” 

Jack frowned, his eyes narrowed. Tim looked up staring at Yvonne with startled eyes. Wanting to get away Jack slid his feet of the table top. 

“I’d better go talk to Ianto.” 

 

 

Chapter Five 

“Where were you?” Ianto demanded with a dangerous edge to his voice. Jack looked him up and down carefully until he stepped back away from the hotel room door to let Ianto walk in. 

Looking him up and down Jack guessed he had just come from the wake, after the ‘funeral’. Jack had in the end won the battle, kind of. Lisa wasn’t buried. A coffin had been put in the ground, to appease Lisa’s family who would never know the truth Lisa was still in Cardiff, now in the Torchwood morgue. 

Jack had managed to wangle the funeral after Lisa’s ex-boyfriend had been found. He was in Strangeways prison, serving an eight year sentence for aggravated assault. It kind of put him out of the frame as a suspect. Jack had pushed for the police to close the case, with no viable suspects and with that the body could be released. 

Ianto had been less than pleased over that week. They were still in London. Yvonne had arranged everything in a rush, Torchwood was paying for the funeral and for most people it could be put to rest and them left to grieve. All except Ianto, who knew the truth of it, along with Yvonne, Tim and Jack. But they could cope. 

Jack had reservations about Ianto. Due to the arrangements needing to be made Jack hadn’t seen much of him over the last few days. Added to which Ianto had made it quite clear that none of the Torchwood management were welcome at the funeral. They probably would have normally come as a matter of course. But this time that had been vetoed, by an angry young man making a very forceful point. 

Now Jack watched Ianto stagger into the suite. He looked around, at the small lounge area and the bedroom beyond, then fixed his angry blue eyes on Jack. 

“You didn’t bother to come.” 

Jack felt nonplussed by that. “You made it quite clear we shouldn’t. I presumed I was included in that.” 

Ianto blinked, looking at Jack, almost as if he was trying to focus on him. “Since when do you listen to anyone, only when it suits you I guess. You’ve certainly been letting Yvonne walk all over you.” 

Jack tensed, wincing a little. Ianto moved to the window. Jack watched him cautiously, he got the hint. Ianto wanted to take his anger out on someone. Jack was his best target. 

“I know,” Jack said, he’d take it if he had to. Ianto turned round and glared at him. 

“Why did you let her do it? I didn’t want Lisa anywhere near Torchwood! Owen had better not touch her!” 

“He won’t.” 

“But he’ll have to; they still want an autopsy, just in case something weird has happened.” 

“I’ll think of something,” Jack said. Even if he got her into an unmarked grave in Cardiff, Ianto could know where she was. He just couldn’t risk that yet. 

“Yeah, you’ve done great so far!” 

“That is not fair!” Jack snapped back without thinking. He was tired, fed up and had not wanted to come to London. The only reason for that was to protect Ianto. “I haven’t been in contact with Torchwood London for years, I never have been, that was always someone else’s job. Now I’m stuck in a game that I don’t know how to play. That was the one reason I allowed this whole liaison farce in the first place. I needed them to play it for me!” 

Ianto stared at him with wide eyes. Jack sighed. It was probably not the best time to point out Ianto’s failings. Definitely not, Jack thought to himself. In the fading light of dusk he saw Ianto’s eyes flood with tears and then suddenly he started to cry. 

The tears were heavy and the sobs rose up from his chest, bursting out violently. It occurred to Jack that Ianto hadn’t really cried, he’d been upset, angry, and erratic but he hadn’t really cried. He had held all that back, his emotions blocked up because he couldn’t let them out. And now he couldn’t seem to stop them. 

Jack crossed the room swiftly, half expecting to be rejected as he put his arms around Ianto’s shoulders and pulled him close. 

In fact he got the opposite reaction. Ianto’s sobs increased, his entire body shaking but he pressed himself against Jack and wrapped his arms around his waist, clinging onto Jack tightly. Jack felt him rest his head down on his shoulder and he held on tighter, running his hand up and down Ianto’s back while he murmured endearments gently into his ear. 

It took a long while for Ianto to exhaust himself. Jack hoped it would do some good. Nothing else had so far. As the sobbing slowed to a series of hiccups Ianto wavered on his feet. Jack braced himself to take the weight as Ianto sagged against him. Then Ianto seemed to jerk back, straightening up. Jack still had hold of him, his arms around Ianto’s shoulders. Ianto’s grip around his waist loosened but didn’t release. Jack looked carefully at Ianto. 

So close up he could see the dark rings under his eyes, the bloodshot eyes that were almost out of focus and Ianto felt incredibly frail to him. 

“When did you last get some sleep?” 

“I can’t,” Ianto shook his head.

“Ianto, you’re exhausted. Come on.” 

Jack kept Ianto in his arms and Ianto didn’t resist as Jack led him through the suite, around the sofa in the lounge area and through into the bedroom. It was very clear how much Ianto was registering, or not registering, as Jack took him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. 

Very carefully he pulled Ianto out of his black suit jacket draping it over a nearby chair. Ianto swayed slightly as Jack loosened his tie and then pulled it off over his head. Then Jack carefully started to unlace Ianto’s shoes. 

“Jack?” Ianto’s voice was filled with mild concern. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and attempted to push him away. The pressure was so negligent that Jack ignored it. Looking up at Ianto’s wan face he could probably assume that he had not eaten much over the last week either. Jack cursed himself, he had been hiding away and no one else had picked up the slack. 

He pulled off Ianto’s shoes, leaving them by the side of the bed. Getting up he took Ianto’s shoulders and guided him down onto the bed, making him lie back and then lifting his legs up onto the bed. 

“It’s all right Ianto. You just need to get some rest.” 

“Getting some rest won’t fix it,” Ianto mumbled. 

“Nor will forcing yourself to the point of exhaustion.” Jack was half tempted to order something from room service for him but looking at Ianto now actually thought he was too tired to even eat. He could sort that part of the problem out in the morning. Ianto didn’t relax into the bed by choice, it was more the fact he couldn’t do anything else. Everything was over, in a way, so he could slow down and had almost come to a stop. Jack left him on the bed for a moment and went back into the lounge and went straight to the mini-bar. He rooted out a small bottle of brandy and poured it into a glass. For a moment he toyed with the idea of diluting it, and then rejected it. Perhaps the strength of the alcohol would stimulate Ianto a little. Coffee might have been better, but Jack would have to waste time making it. 

He returned to the bedroom. Ianto was still lying on the bed, where he had been put, his eyelids flickered, as if he was trying to open his eyes but now didn’t have the energy for that. Jack sat on the bed close to him and put an arm under Ianto to lift him a little. Jack rested the young man’s shoulders on his leg and then cupped his head. 

Jack gently brought the glass to his lips and forced a little of the alcohol into him. Ianto gasped, coughed and his eyes flickered a little more decisively. Jack repeated the action, Ianto managed a bigger swallow, gasping again as the harsh liquid burnt his throat. 

Very carefully, not rushing as he did it Jack managed to get half the amount of brandy into Ianto before he started to make gentle protesting noises. However Jack sensed the alcohol had brought him round a little. He was still exhausted but his mind seemed sharper. Jack stopped there. 

For a moment he held onto Ianto. Wanting desperately to comfort him, Jack felt angry with himself. He hadn’t handled the situation with Yvonne Hartman at all well. His negotiating skills were lacking, he had done his best. For a while he thought he had done quite well, at least he had done his best. The one thing he had avoided though, was discussing with Ianto the return to Cardiff. Jack had no idea if Ianto wanted to stay here, or return with him to Cardiff, or neither of those. 

That was one thing that Ianto had to be allowed to choose. But not right then and there. For now he needed to get some rest. Jack lifted him again so he could slide off the edge of the bed and he laid Ianto back down. Ianto mumbled something as he lingered on the edge of sleep. Jack didn’t hear it clearly and he wasn’t about to force Ianto to repeat it. 

Instead he settled him on the bed and reaching over pulled the far edge of the comforter over so he could drape it over Ianto. Trying to get him into the bed now would be almost impossible and it didn’t seem worth it. The late autumn evenings were hardly cold, and neither was the hotel room. 

Ianto didn’t stir as Jack managed the best approximation of tucking him in. His face was a little flushed now, the colour restoring him slightly. But the dark circles under his eyes remained predominant. Jack gently ran his fingers though Ianto’s hair, not surprised when he didn’t react. He went to the window and pulled the light coloured curtains across, almost all of the way. He left a gap to allow the harsh London lighting in. All across the city lights were coming on, street lights, house lights, pub lights. 

There was so many of them now it made it almost impossible to see the stars. Even stood on the top of Torchwood Tower, Jack doubted he would be able to see them clearly. He knew there was a reason he didn’t like London. Not any more anyway. 

Turning back he looked at Ianto, sleeping peacefully. Jack moved back around the bed and picking up the brandy glass drained the rest of it in one swallow. It burnt his throat, leaving a pleasant sensation behind. He’d better stop at that one, he thought to himself, although another would have been tempting. 

He left the door open and turned on the lamp that lay on the table by the bedroom door. It would give Ianto enough light to see by when he woke up, without blinding him. Jack turned on a second lamp by the sofa and went back to the pile of papers he had been reading. Since he didn’t know the rules there was only one thing he could do. 

Learn them. 

 

 

Chapter Six 

Ianto slept though the night. He roused a little while after the sun rose, leaking weakly in through the windows. On the street below the traffic increased, the sounds becoming more intense as the day began. Jack had left him alone. He hadn’t even so much as stirred once. 

As he slowly woke Ianto became aware of a vaguely familiar voice talking in a low tone. Automatically he reached out to the side of the bed, to where his radio alarm clock sat. That was when he realised he was lying on an unfamiliar bed. He was sprawled face down, his face buried in the pillow, but his head lurched up as he realised the strangeness of his environment. 

Slowly he rolled onto his back and looked around. It took him a moment to detangle himself from the comforter and he was glad to note he was still wearing his shirt and trousers. But he didn’t remember taking off his shoes and tie. 

He sat up and carried on his idle assessment. The light from the room beyond and from the window gave him enough to see by. To his left lay a bathroom. He could see a rack of pristine white towels and a basin, a large mirror and a toilet. A few toiletries sat on the side of the basin. Small little travel size bottles he noted. 

The bedroom was very much the same in the type of décor. All simple, impersonal but at the same time classy, picked out for no one in particular. It was a hotel room. It held no sort of personal items in it. Ianto frowned trying to remember how the hell he had got to a hotel room. 

His answer came as Jack paced up and down in the room beyond. For a moment as he walked he was caught in sight of the door. 

“Suzie, I’m just making the last few arrangements, it will be tomorrow, or the day after.” 

Jack spun to turn and pace back the way he had come. He turned away from Ianto, and paused again so all Ianto could see was his broad shoulders and back, clad in a dark blue shirt. He stopped for a minute listening to Suzie’s reply. 

“He’s still my responsibility,” Jack announced turning again, absorbed in whatever she was saying. Ianto took in Jack’s profile; his shirt was open, his braces hanging, and his hair sticking up slightly as he ran his fingers through it. 

“Fine,” he said after a pause. “I feel that he’s still my responsibility.” 

Jack started pacing again, for a moment he was obviously unaware that Ianto was awake and listening. And as he did listen he felt another flood of tears. It was clear enough that Ianto himself was the person Jack was discussing with Suzie. Because he felt responsible. For what, Ianto wasn’t quite sure. Possibly for Lisa, Jack was the one who had invited her to Cardiff, where she had died. He had also advocated Ianto’s promotion to Liaison Officer. 

He moved as he heard the loud clatter as Jack dropped his phone down on the table. Ianto had slid to the side of the bed and sat up when Jack appeared in the doorway. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” Ianto smoothed the rich velvet of the comforter under his fingers. He looked at Jack lingering in the doorway, he looked casual, shoulders relaxed and hands in his pockets but he held back as if he didn’t dare come into the room, like that almost implied an intimacy that Jack didn’t feel he had. Even though he had put Ianto to bed last night. 

“Are you all right?” 

“I’m okay, I’m sorry.” Ianto said that slightly hesitantly. Jack got the hint immediately. Ianto wasn’t entirely sure what had happened last night. 

“It’s all right. You looked wiped out last night, hope you didn’t mind me just dumping you on the bed.” Jack shrugged as he spoke and propped himself up by putting his shoulder against the doorframe. 

“You couldn’t have slept well on the sofa,” Ianto said. Jack shrugged again. 

“I never sleep much anyway. I spent most of the night looking over some of the Torchwood information. I don’t know their policies; I guess I had better learn to beat them at their own game.” 

Ianto managed a feeble smile at Jack’s fighting talk, as the conversation last night came back to him. It filtered through his mind and what Jack had snapped rose up. But he hadn’t said it unkindly, just as if it was a fact. 

“Although for now I think I will have to retreat with my tail slightly between my legs. I’ll be heading back to Cardiff tonight, or tomorrow morning,” Jack added

Ianto blinked. That thought sent a sharp pain of something he couldn’t describe flash through his torso, almost taking his breath away. 

“I don’t want to stay here,” Ianto said. Then worried that Jack just thought the room, and with him, he added. “In London.” 

Jack levered himself up off the doorframe and stepped into the room, like an invisible barrier holding him back had been lifted. He moved to the end of the bed, still keeping some distance from Ianto, and sat tentatively at the other end. 

“You mean you want to leave Torchwood?” 

Ianto shook his head. “No, I don’t… I just… I want to go back to Cardiff… working for you.” 

Jack gave a tentative half smile. 

“I know I haven’t done a very good job so far. You know… as the Liaison thing but I could get better, it’s not like I can’t…” Ianto paused. Jack said nothing. He just listened, his face and body attentive to what Ianto was saying. 

“I can learn what you need me to for that, and I can still do all the other stuff that I’ve been doing, the archive work, tidying up… even picking up the dry cleaning.” Ianto paused again, this time to give a little wry smile. “That coat of yours takes a hell of a battering and the pterodactyl prefers dark to milk chocolate.” 

Jack half smile stayed put but it was hard to hold. For some unshakable reason he felt that this conversation was happening wrong. That somehow, it shouldn’t have been here. Again that metallic taste, like ions in the air, hit the back of his throat. He swallowed it down forcefully concentrating on Ianto’s earnest and almost desperate face. 

“You want to come and work for Torchwood Cardiff?” 

Ianto nodded very solemnly. He shuffled back on the bed, so he could rest against the headboard and he drew his legs up slightly. To Jack, he looked so childlike he didn’t dare refuse. But they had things to consider. 

“There would still be reports to be taken to London.” 

Ianto nodded, “I can do that.” 

There was a slight pause. It was filled as the bell to the room rang. Jack and Ianto both jumped at the sudden break in the moment. Ianto felt a little frightened. Jack, however, smiled. 

“Room service.” 

Jack got up and went to the suite door. Ianto got up off the bed and moved to the bedroom doorway. He watched with mild awe as the girl brought the trolley in and Jack signed for it, flirting with her as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She grinned and responded, flicking her long dark hair back off her shoulders, looking quite happy about it. That was until she turned her head and caught sight of Ianto in the bedroom doorway. 

He was decently dressed, still in his trousers and shirt but she raised her eyebrows a little, and sent a slightly suggestive look in Jack’s direction before she took the pad off him, where he had signed and then she sauntered out of the room. 

Ianto looked at the trolley, piled rather high. Jack shrugged. 

“I got a range of stuff. We’ve done Chinese, Italian, Thai and Indian, but never breakfast, I’m not sure what you wanted or liked.” 

It took a moment for that to register. Jack had got breakfast for both of them, a hell of a lot of breakfast, then Ianto flushed as the full realisation of the look the girl gave Jack crashed in on him. Ianto felt himself flush, he also wondered if Jack had had anyone else in the room. 

Jack rummaged through the trays and piled up a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. 

“Come on.” 

Ianto looked at it warily. There was cereal, toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, and beans. It made Ianto hungry and sick all at the same time. 

“You’ve probably got enough for about six people.” 

“Good, you look like you’ve got some catching up to do,” Jack commented with his mouth full. He sat down and put his feet on the coffee table, pushing the pile of papers he had been studying away, ruffling the pile a little. That one thing drove Ianto to action. He moved over swiftly and gathered up the papers, starting to order them. 

“Oi!” Jack nudged Ianto on the hip with his foot. “Food first, none of my workers do anything on an empty stomach.” 

Jack grinned and Ianto smiled. He made himself a bowl of cereal. It was the best he could probably manage. Very carefully he sat down on the sofa, a little away from Jack but closer than he had dared to recently. For a moment they concentrated on eating, and then Jack broke the silence. 

“You can still use the house.” 

Ianto looked at him sharply. Jack shrugged. 

“Might as well, no one else is using it.” 

“I’ll pay the bills, and rent.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Jack said in a resigned way. He knew Ianto would and Jack would concede a little. 

“You can do what you like to the house, it probably needs a bit of decorating as well, if you want.” 

“No, I don’t mean that… that long term. I just… I just think that I can think better in Cardiff, and you know Lisa is still. I can’t stay here with everyone else thinking one thing and me knowing another.” 

Jack nodded. “You still might want to leave Torchwood.” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to do. I just know I can’t work it out here.” 

Jack nodded, he said nothing, he carried on eating and decided he wanted Ianto to eat more than a bowl of cereal. He got up and made for the coffee, planning to pile his own plate again, and a second one. 

“Okay, I can go back tomorrow. There must be some things you need to sort here before you can do anywhere long term.” 

“I guess.” 

Jack turned around and handed the plate he had piled to Ianto. He had finished the bowl of cereal and took the plate of eggs, bacon and sausage almost eagerly now. 

“Don’t guess. If that is what you want to do, then do it. I’ll be leaving here at ten tomorrow. If you want to come, either meet me here, or tell me where to pick you up.” 

“Jack?” Ianto said starting to fork egg into his mouth, his hunger returning. 

“For Gods sake don’t say thank you. Not yet anyway.”

 

 

Chapter Seven

Ianto let himself into the house. It was quiet and cold feeling even in the warmth of the Indian summer. The day had been warm, in London, the heat increasing as they reached Cardiff. 

Jack had dropped him off and Ianto now stood in the hallway, his luggage at his feet. He looked around. The banisters that rose up to the upper floor were made of ornately carved wood. The paint on the walls was old, a little dirty looking. Ianto vaguely remembered Jack saying something about decorating. But he didn’t plan to be around for that long. Only just long enough to think his way out of the mess. 

He carried his suitcase upstairs and left it there. There was a suitcase and two boxes. Ianto had found he hadn’t wanted to bring too much with him. Looking through it he had almost angrily discarded most of what he owned, like it ought to be destroyed. He had a suitcase and one box of his own items. The other box was of the most importance. He picked that up and took it though to the lounge. Another room that was dirty and neglected, but dealt with to a point that it was liveable in. 

Ianto put the box of Lisa’s things on the table and looked at them. There was a photograph album, a few books, a cactus and other silly little things that Sophie had rescued from Lisa’s apartment before Torchwood had invaded. 

It stayed on the table and Ianto sat on and looked at it for a while, until the shadows started to lengthen across the room. Then suddenly he got up and left the house. 

The hub felt just as empty but more personal. Suzie, Toshiko and Owen had all left their mark across it. There were pizza boxes everywhere, takeaway cartons piled on top of them. He’d only been gone a week and it looked like a bomb had hit it. Ianto closed his eyes and almost started to sob as the reason for his absence returned to him. Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, settled himself and on coming back to reality he started to clear up the mess. 

“And what are you doing?” Jack’s voice caught him by surprise. He spun round dropping the pizza box into the bin bag. 

“Tidying up.” 

“I thought I told you to go home and get settled in.” 

“And I’m doing that,” Ianto said, and then added. “Sir.” 

Jack gave him a very long look. Ianto didn’t dare move, pinned down by that stare. Jack moved his shoulders slightly, looked down at the piece of technology he was fiddling with and then looked up and smiled. 

“Well then, can you find file 37/487SE and 45/98IU and bring them up here. In fact, you can read them yourself and then you can run out a summary when everyone else gets in, oh and can you feed the pterodactyl?” Jack almost turned away but he snapped back at the last moment. 

“Ianto?” 

“Yes, Sir?” 

Jack gave a cocky grin, “you couldn’t get me some coffee first could you?”


End file.
